


The Ninth Realm

by Signamino



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Jotunn | Frost Giant, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Marvel Jotunn Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signamino/pseuds/Signamino
Summary: "Once he was sure that the Jötnar was indeed dead, he inspected his hands, expecting to be greeted with pale Aesir skin. But again he was met with the cold Jotunn blue."Loki doesn't regain his Aesir form during the fight in Jötunheim.





	1. Chapter 1

"Run back home, little princess."

As soon as these words left the guards mouth, Loki knew they wouldn't get out of here without a fight.

"Damn.", he muttered and braced himself for Thor's fury. And sure enough, a moment later the Jötnar was struck by Mjölnir and flew into the far away wall. A fight was truly inevitable now.  
The Giants charged and were met by the Aesir. Weapons of steel met weapons of ice. The world around them blurred, as the adrenaline filled their blood. While the others around him faced the Jötnar in close-combat, Loki himself preferred to hit them with one of his throwing knifes from a safe distance away. Those that came too close could be tricked with a small illusion. While his tricks weren’t appreciated on the training grounds, here no one complained when they rid them of a few of their enemies.  
There was a pained cry, followed by a shout of: "Don’t let them touch you!"  
Loki was in mid-charge when the words reached his ears. He tried to pierce the chest of the Jötnar with his knife, but his hand was stopped before it even got that far. The grip of the Frost Giant was tight and caused him to let go of his knife. He watched as the armor around his arm crumbled away and prepared himself for the pain. But it never came. Instead, he watched as his hand and forearm turned a deep blue. The rest of his arm was still covered, but he could still feel it traveling up his arms, past his elbows and shoulders until it reached his face. It almost felt as if cold water was running across his body.

He looked down at his blue hands. Jotunn blue.  
What was happening? You know exactly what just happened.

Some strange magic, cast by the Jötnar, he calmed his mind. Nothing more. He would dispose of him and the curse would disappear with him.  
With a twist of his wrist, another dagger appeared in his right hand. The Frost Giant still hadn't moved, the beast stared at his face, seemingly taken back. He didn’t even see the knife coming.  
Once he was sure that the Jötnar was indeed dead, he inspected his hands, expecting to be greeted with pale Aesir skin. But again he was met with the cold Jotunn blue.

What kind of witchcraft is this?

He felt his heart rate quicken and felt the sudden urge to hide somewhere. Anywhere.  
The Jötnar around him didn’t seem to spare him a second glance. They were solely focused on Thor and his companions.

You know why. You know how you look right now.

A shout from Fandral pulled him out of his thoughts. He had been impaled on ice caused by a Jötnar. One of Loki's daggers made quick work of the one responsible. While Volstagg pulled Fandral free, Thor was still wildly swinging his hammer, hitting Frost Giants left and right.

When Sif and the Warriors Three fled the battle, Loki finally moved from his spot, unwilling to be left alone in this unfamiliar and cold realm.  
Thor's eyes met his and for a moment Loki breathed a sigh of relief. His brother had come to his senses and now they could leave.  
But there was no recognition in his eyes. They were only filled with a deep hatred and the urge to kill. Loki's steps faltered.

He doesn’t recognize you.

A heartbeat later Mjölnir was racing towards him and he only had enough time to cast a meager shield spell. The shield immediately broke once Mjölnir made contact with it, but it did manage to slow the hammer down. Without it he would have been dead, that Loki knew. The hammer hit him straight in the chest and he was flung backwards. He landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. While he was still trying to regain his breath, the world around him went fuzzy and dark around the edges. The darkness embraced him and took the pain away.

\-----------

 

The first thing Loki felt when he awoke was tremendous pain. For a moment he hoped that it had only been a dream and he had been knocked unconscious on the training grounds, but this definitely was neither his bed nor the Healing Room. Slowly his senses returned and he could hear the crackle of a fire and the scent of soup filled his nose. The furs around him were soft and warm, even though they couldn’t compare with the ones he was used to. There were footsteps nearby and then voice, soft and female, gently asked:

"Are you awake?"

He opened his eyes and it took a moment for his eyes to focus. When they finally did, he barely managed to suppress a scream. A Jötnar loomed above him, her blood red eyes trained onto him. Seeing his distress, her brows furrowed.

"Are you alright, little one? Are you in pain?"

She sounded concerned and so Loki decided to answer her.

"Where am I? Who are you?" he asked and couldn’t hide the panic in his voice.  
"You are currently in my home, little one. My name is Arnbjörg. My son, Bylur, found you wounded on the battlefield. All the healers are occupied right now, so he brought you to me. What were you doing in the battle? You are far too small to fight."

While she talked, Loki looked down at himself. As expected the Jotunn blue still hadn't disappeared. His bare chest was covered by bandages. 

"Where are my clothes?" he inquired instead of answering the question. She didn’t have to know who he really was.

"I'm afraid I had to cut them off. I would have only injured you further, had I tried to undress you. But I still have Bjarni's old furs. He hasn’t worn them since was a child, but they should fit you."

From a nearby table she pulled a couple of pelts and held them out to him. With a quiet thanks he took them. When he attempted to leave the bed to dress himself she held him down and firmly told him to rest a few more hours.  
"Thor's hammer is a deadly weapon. You are lucky that you weren’t hurt more. You should give your body a little more time to recover."

He tried to argue, he didn’t want to be bedridden for too long. He also wanted to finally leave this realm, even if his ribs still ached. But she simply refused to let him get up so he reluctantly agreed.

"Excellent", she said with a relieved smile. "I shall make you a potion, which will allow you to fall asleep faster."

She turned away to move to the small fireplace. He took a breath and asked the question that had been in the back of his mind since he woke up.

"Do you know what became of the Aesir that invaded?"

"Bylur told me that they had them corned when Odin appeared. He spoke with Laufey and then took the prince and his companions back to Asgard."

Ah. So Thor has left you here.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why did you bring us back?"  
"Do you realize what you've done? What you've…Thor, where is your brother?"

The anger within Thor calms instantly and his gaze travels across the room. The spot that Loki usually occupied, the one next to his brother, was empty. Hogun and Volstagg looked to Sif.

"I thought he was with you, Thor."  
"No, he was not. I assumed he fled alongside you."

Fandral gave a pained cry and the four of them hurried away, in the direction of the Healing Room. Thor stared at his father, looking for guidance. An icy cold had started to settle in his bones.

"Heimdall?"

The gatekeeper shook his head. "I can't see him, Allfather."

Ice cold fingers wrapped around his heart. 

"You have to get us back to Jötunheim!" he cried.

"I cannot do that. The Jötnar are still gathered around the Bifröst area. If I activate it now they will gain access to Asgard. I'm sorry, my prince."

"I don’t care! Loki is still there! I will not leave him to his fate!"

"Thor."  
Thor whirled around to face his father. The king looked old and weary; his armor seemed to suddenly weigh him down.

"Heimdall is right. As much as I want to see Loki back at home safely, the kingdom must come first. I'm sorry."

"But…Father!"

"I'm sorry. Thor. We will talk of this later. Once I have consulted your mother."

"He isn’t dead, father. Loki isn’t dead!"

He didn’t know why he thought it necessary to tell his father this. But saying it helped melt the ice around his heart. His father didn’t reply for a moment and the cold returned tenfold.

"I know."

The grip of the icy fingers loosened, but he could still feel them. Ready to rip his heart apart.

\-----------

The ride back to Asgard was a silent one. Odin lead the way on Sleipnir, Thor followed close behind. His mind was plagued by thoughts he didn’t want to think about.

_You are the reason your brother died, they whispered._  
You killed him.  
Left him to die alone in a frozen wasteland. 

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t silence them.

_Murderer. Brother killer. Monster._

They followed him into his chambers, which suddenly seemed way too silent and empty. The silence unnerved him and he resorted to pacing around his study, desperate for something to get this mind off his brother. 

There was a knock on his door and he hurried to answer it, grateful for the distraction. Sif, Hogun and Volstagg greeted him with news about Fandral's condition. He had almost forgotten about his injured friend and felt a wave of shame wash through him. The second time today that he had forgotten about those closest to him.

He assured them that he would visit Fandral as soon as possible and asked if there were any news regarding his brother. 

Nothing.

They eventually left in direction of the city, while he headed to the Healing Room. One of the healers greeted him and led him to Fandral.

He was currently lying on a bed, awake but clearly still tired.

"Good day, Fandral. How are your injuries?" he asked, while taking a seat on one of the chairs next to the bed.

"Well, they aren’t exactly comfortable but they surely aren’t the worst wounds I have ever acquired." he joked. Then his mood turned solemn and the smile disappeared. "Thor…The others have told me about what happened to Loki. Are you alright?"

"Why Fandral, aren’t you the wounded one here?" he tried to joke, but it all sounded forced so he gave him the honest truth.  
"I worry. This isn’t just a simple jest. He might be dead. I could have led my brother to his death and left his body to the Frost Giants."  
His eyes watered at the thought. If his brother was truly dead, there wouldn’t even be a body, that they could give a proper funeral. 

"Honestly Thor, I don’t believe that Loki is dead." 

The words instantly silenced him and the icy fingers let go of him. 

"After I was impaled the Jötnar responsible was killed by a dagger. I am positive it was Loki's."

"Are you sure?" he cautiously asked, not daring to hope.  
"Who else uses daggers?"  
Relief flared in his chest and replaced the cold with pleasant warmth.  
"Thank you Fandral. You have no idea what these words mean to me."  
"There is really no need to thank me, my friend. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I'd like to talk to this lovely lady over here." he said and gestured at one of the nearby nurses, who chuckled at the words.

With a smirk on his lips, Thor left the Healing Room.

\-----------

A few hours later, one of the servants finally informed him that the King and Queen were awaiting him inside his father's study. The sun was about to set and Loki had now been missing for almost a whole day. The entrance to his father's study was guarded, a clear sign that this would be a conversation, which shouldn’t reach any ears aside from the royal family. 

After a brief but respectful nod to the guards, he opened the door and was met by the worried gaze of his mother. She looked like she had been crying and he had a sense of dark foreboding. 

Once he made sure that the door was properly closed, he carefully approached his mother.

"Mother, are you well?"  
"Oh, don’t worry about me. This whole situation isn’t easy for any of us."  
She smiled a gentle smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. His father, too, sat rigid atop his chair. Did they know something he didn't?

"Thor" his father began. "What we are about to ask you is very important. You must answer honestly, no matter what, for Loki's life could depend on your answer. Do you understand this?"

He nodded, not able to speak because of the lump in his throat.

"How many Jötnar did you kill yesterday?"

The nervousness disintegrated into fury. Was now really the time to talk about this?

"I thought this had to do with Loki's disappearance! I do not care for these monsters! They can all rot in Hel for all I care! I came here to talk about my brother! Not to be scolded by you because I killed some beasts, that will be missed by no one!"

"Thor!"

" **Enough!** " Odin had risen from his chair. "You will not speak of anyone like this again, do you understand? The Jötnar are proud people and you should do well to remember that, unless you want to start a war. Now, will you answer the question?"

Thor tried to remember when father had ever defended the Frost Giants. He couldn't recall a single time something like this occurred. What had changed? Still, he did his best to answer his father's question.

"I can't recall. It was all just a blur. But I know that Mjölnir found its target many times, just like it always does."

His mother took a deep breath, as if to steel herself. 

"Was a small Jötnar under those targets, Thor?"  
"What?"  
"A runt. Did you kill a runt, Thor? About the size of an Aesir."

A small Jötnar? How should he be able to distinguish one Frost Giant from another? They all looked the same to him. Hideous blue skin, marred with scars, and red eyes, the colour of blood. He was about to say that, no hadn't, but then remembered one strange Jötnar. 

He had been ridiculously small, not even Thor's own height and seemed weak and frail amongst all the soldiers. As always, Mjölnir had hit its mark and struck him right in the chest.  
He hadn’t thrown it as forcefully as with the other Jötnar, but such a small thing could never survive such a blow. So he answered:

"Yes, I did."


	3. Chapter 3

When Loki awoke, the pain was gone and it felt like he had been asleep for several days. Was there such a thing as an Odinsonsleep? If yes, this had certainly been it. He was still in the same bed he had fallen asleep in, but this time the house was empty. Actually, he wasn’t sure if you could even call this a house. The walls weren’t made of wood, but of stone and there weren't any corners. The room was round and in the shape of an oval. The books back in Asgard claimed that Jötnar lived in caves, maybe they weren’t wrong. Despite that, the house was still well furnished. Not as richly as his own chambers, but rather like the rooms of a common Aesir citizen. There was a bed, obviously, as well as a nearby table and chair, a fireplace and an overflowing bookshelf. Arnbjörg was nowhere to be seen and for a moment he thought about sneaking away, running to the Bifröst area and call for Heimdall. But his skin was still blue and Heimdall would never open the way to Asgard for a Jötnar.   
He attempted to shape shift, to change his form, but his seiðr refused to obey the command.

_Well then, looks like you will have stay here._

The thought didn’t help to make this situation any better. Arnbjörg had been nice to him this far, but he didn’t doubt that she would attack an Aesir without hesitation. All it would take for him to die was to suddenly get his true form back. He should leave this place as soon as possible. He got up and made his over to the table. There laid the furs she had offered him. They seemed to be from different animals, than he was used to. He recognized the soft and thick fur of a wolf, but the others were foreign to him. 

A small part of the wall was covered with thin ice, which apparently functioned as a makeshift mirror. He put the furs on and regarded his reflection. The fur of the wolf was a vest, which covered most of chest, while the other was a pair of Varangian trousers. This wasn’t the first time he saw them. Many years ago, the people of Midgard wore it as well. He wondered if the Midgardians mimicked the clothing choices of the Jötnar, during the short time they were under their rule. 

The glowing red distracted him from his question. It was the first time since he changed, that he was able to get a look at his face. The shape of his head and face was still the same. His cheekbones didn’t change, the same with his height. His hair was still long and back, even though it was frizzy and tangled from sleep. But there lines on his skin, that weren’t there before. They were all over his body. On his forehead, cheeks and chin and he could see them running down his arms and legs. The elders, those that served in the war against the Giants, claimed that the Jötnar carved them onto their bodies with knifes. He cautiously lifted a hand and ran a finger along the lines. There weren’t any ridges; it was as if they had simply been drawn on his skin. Were they born with them? Had the elders been wrong after all?

"It looks great on you!"

The voice of Arnbjörg startled him out of his reverie. She stood in the doorway, the light from outside brightened the cave.   
"Why, you look just like Bjarni."  
She walked up to him and pulled on some of the furs, readjusting them.   
"You’ve never told me your name, you know? Seeing how I saved you and offered you my bed, it would only be polite of you to introduce yourself."

She sounded just like his mother always did when she was scolding him or Thor for getting in trouble or pestering the ambassadors. It made him miss his home. Had they noticed that he was missing? _Did_ they miss him?

"How long have I been asleep?"  
"About a day. It's currently mid-afternoon. I'm still waiting for that name, by the way." 

They attacked Jötunheim in the night, so it had been about one and a half days since his disappearance. They had definitely noticed by now.

_But do they miss you?_

There was a pointed cough from Arnbjörg, reminding him that she was still waiting for an answer.

"Loki." he answered honestly. His name originated from the Jötnar and he had heard of multiple Frost Giants that shared his name. It wasn’t uncommon and wouldn’t attract any attention. There was no way she would associate it with the second prince of Asgard. Sometimes, the best hiding place was in plain sight.  
The smile returned to Arnbjörgs face.  
"Loki, huh? I was going to ask you how old you were, but with that answer I already have a pretty good guess."  
"What do you mean" he asked, genuinely confused.  
"Well, Prince Loki was killed 1300 years ago, which led to many parents naming their children after the fallen prince to honor him."  
"Prince Loki?" he could have slapped himself. Why did he say that? Apparently this was common knowledge to the Jötnar. If he was unlucky, she might figure out that he wasn't actually one of them.   
"Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of him." Her eyes were the size of saucers, which he might have found humorous if the colour of her eyes didn’t make it seem as if there was blood seeping out of them. "The firstborn of Laufey and Fárbauti, brother of Helblindi and Býleistr! He was killed by the Aesir during the war, when he was just an infant! How do know not know this? How do not know the history of your own name?"

"I…didn’t know. No one ever told me." The words were true. He had never heard of a Jotunn prince called Loki. His books had only mentioned Gelblindi and Býleistr, with the former being the crown prince. It also unnerved him that there was a long dead Jotunn prince that not only shared his name but also his time of birth.

_You're not one of them. You are an Odinson._

"No one told you? Well, then it's about time that someone finally does! And after that, you can read some other stories." She gestured to the bookshelf. "If your parents didn’t tell you of the worst crime the Aesir have ever committed, then I don’t even want to know what other things they hid from you."

She took a seat upon the bed and patted the part of the mattress next to her. Knowing he couldn't get of this, he obediently settled down next to her. Immediately, she began to tell the story.

"Exactly 1300 years ago, Queen Fárbauti gave birth to her and King Laufey's first child, Prince Loki. Those times weren’t filled with much happiness, due to the war against Asgard, but the birth of the prince still filled the people and the royal family with hope. However, Loki was born premature and was thus weak and frail. As we do with all weak babies, he was brought to the temple that housed the Casket of Ancient Winters. The casket had saved several infants from death and everyone was sure that it would save the prince as well.   
However, when the Aesir won the war and came to collect the casket they came across the young prince. Seeing their chance to rid themselves of an enemy prince, they murdered the baby in cold blood and left his body in the snow, never to be found again. The Queen wept for many days and the King swore revenge on Asgard.   
To anger Laufey even more, Odin named his second son, who was also born during the war and presented shortly after it ended, after the prince Jötunheim had just lost at the Aesir's hands."

Loki waited patiently for the story to continue, but apparently that was the end. 

"And the body was never found?"

Arnbjörg sadly shook her head.  
"Unfortunately not. But the funeral ceremony was still held."

"Do you truly think that Odin named his son Loki to spite Laufey?"  
He couldn’t see his father ever be that cruel. Sure, he often ignored him in favor of Thor, but he wasn’t evil.  
"Why else? Odin is a cruel murderer, just like his son, and I wouldn’t put it past him to remind King Laufey of his loss."

Ice gathered at her fingertips, only to then disappear and reappear. He should probably distract her.

"You mentioned something about books?"


	4. Chapter 4

Most of the books turned out to be for children. They were very old and it was apparent that they were read through many times. Loki guessed that they were the old schoolbooks of her sons. There were multiple history books, as well as books about folklore and fairy tales. Another contained information about tradition, and one was titled _Jötunheims Flora And Fauna_.

He decided to open that one first. If he indeed couldn't turn back, then he would have to stay in this realm and in that case he should at least know something about it. He skipped through most of the chapter describing the plants, since they also grew during Asgards winter. Meaning that, in Jötunheim, they presumably grew during the summer. So, he moved on to the animals that were native to this cold realm.

> **Fornfíll**
> 
> Big and heavy creatures that travel in herds. They can often be seen in the flatlands of the south, where their herds find enough plants to survive. Only experienced hunter should attempt to fell this beast and, even then, always bring backup with them. Most weapons don’t penetrate their thick fur and fat and their tusks can cause major damage to any Jötnar that comes too close.  
>  It is said that King Bergelmir used a Fornfíll as his mount.
> 
>  
> 
> **Ísbjörn**
> 
> Significantly smaller than the Fornfíll, but still large enough to ride. They carry the carriages of the royal family. These animals can be found throughout all of Jötunheim. While than they can also inflict great wounds, a big warrior should be able to take one down by himself. Their fur can keep a Jötnar warm through even the coldest nights. The taste of its meat is earthy and sweet.
> 
> **Landselur**
> 
> The Landselur is a very small animal and is completely harmless. They are often found resting on rocky beaches. It is considered to be easier to sneak up upon them while they are resting, since these creatures are outstandingly graceful and fast in the water. Their meat is extremely healthy and most children like the taste. Their pelts are also commonly used to keep newborns warm.  
> 

Next to the texts were three drawn pictures, depicting the animals. The only one that he could recognize was the Ísbjörn. It looked just like one of the bears inhabiting Asgard, even if it was much bigger and white in colour.  
He was about to move to the next page, when Arnbjörn emerged from secluded part of the house with meat in her hands. She walked over to the fireplace, where she had already stacked some wood and dry branches, and laid one big hand against the branches. She mumbled some words under her breath and he saw how a single branch began to smoke before catching on fire. She stayed there for a little while longer, whispering encouraging words, until she was sure that the fire wouldn’t die. Loki couldn’t look away. He had never seen something like this.

"You have seiðr." he whispered. He had never seen someone outside his family use seiðr, not counting the healers. To see a Frost Giant use it so nonchalantly was shoking.  
Arnbjörg whirled around, apparently she had forgotten that he was here.  
"Of course. You mean you can't use it?"

Loki shook his head. Maybe Arnbjörg simply had a special gift and all the others thought just like the Aesir. Better to not make himself suspicious.

"Nothing? Truly nothing? You cannot even call upon the ice?" Her voice was worried, almost panicked.

"Call upon the ice?"

"By Ymir." she murmured, horrified. "You don’t have seiðr. You don’t even know how to call upon the ice. Did your parents not tell you of that either?"  
"No." he lied. "Maybe they didn’t want me to feel different."

"Oh you poor thing. To live without seiðr…I can't even imagine. But…it might have something to do with your date of birth."

"What do you mean?"  
"Well… do you know how the seiðr of us Jötnar works?" Another shake of his head.

"Alright." she began. "I will try my best to explain this, but I am no expert. You should probably ask an experienced sorcerer. Okay, so: The power of our seiðr is determined by two factors. First, there is the amount of seiðr someone is born with. Not everyone, me included, is this lucky. But, we can still acquire seiðr while we grow up. The casket emits waves of seiðr, which travel across all of Jötunheim. The ones that are closest to it have the strongest seiðr. That is why the royal family is so powerful. The palace is the nearest inhabited building to the temple and only they are permitted to touch it. And even though the waves of seiðr are weaker the further they go, even the most faraway Jötnar can obtain seiðr, even if it's weak.  
Furthermore, even a Jötnar with the weakest seiðr can still call upon the ice. We can ask it to form weapons for our protection, or to seal our Dead. It shields us from enemy fire and the harshest winds if we ask it to. A Jötnar that can't call upon the ice…something like this has never happened."

Great job, Loki. Now she thinks you're a freak.

"You mentioned that you might know the reason?"  
"Yes. Now that the casket is in Asgard, it cannot gift our young with seiðr anymore. Those that are born without it, may never wield it. What will happen to us, when none of us can use seiðr anymore? We wouldn’t be able to defend ourselves against the other realms! We will die!"

At this point, Arnbjörg was panicking. She had started to ramble, her words were slurring. Her breathing was rapid as she tried to guess the future of her people. Loki grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him. 

"Arnbjörg. Calm down, it's okay. Do you want to go outside for a while? Get some fresh air?"

She nodded and he led her outside. It was almost sunset, but it was still bright outside. The sun was reflected off the snow and ice, giving off the illusion that all the snowflakes were actually gems. It was the first time he saw Jötunheim during the day and he instantly knew that it would have hurt his Aesir eyes. 

"It's beautiful, isn’t it?" whispered Arnbjörg, when she noticed his amazement. "Me and my husband would sit here together and watch the sun set. From here you can see how it paints the whole realm red. Bylur was there too. But, after the war, it was never quite the same. My husband was gone and I had a child and an infant to worry about. Bjarni never got to meet his father. And now, they are both grown and independent and I still worry. Not just about my family but our realm. My _kind_. I want the children of my sons to be happy and healthy. "

"I'm sure Odin would return the casket if he knew what was happening. He wouldn’t want to doom an entire race."

She only laughed. "Then you don’t know Odin at all."

They simply stood there and watched the sun set, both lost in their own thoughts. At the sight of the snow and ice something inside him soared. It was like a missing part of him, which had always been lost, had finally returned. 

_This is your home._

No, it isn’t, he argued. Asgard was his home. But this would never be Asgard.

But he wasn’t quite sure of that, here in Jötunheim, where everything felt so strange but also so familiar.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki had finally managed to make Arnbjörg sleep in her bed again, while he bundled up with a pile of furs on the floor. She still didn’t wake him though and so he slept through most of the morning, until it was almost noon.  
The Giant was nowhere to be seen, but the door to the cave entrance stood wide open, so she had to be nearby.  
Remembering the landscape from yesterday, Loki got up from his furs and made his way over to the door. A cool breeze was flowing outside and small snowflakes fell from sky. For a moment he closed his eyes and just stood there. He felt oddly at peace, the land seemed to beckon him forward, to explore every last inch of this world. Jötunheim's sun was different to the one in Asgard. While it still warmed him, he could never imagine it turning on him, like the one in Asgard had done so many times, during the summer days, making him overheat until he ended up in the Healing Room. No, this sun was gentle, even if it made sure that all Aesir, who saw Jötunheim during the daylight, would turn blind. 

He heard crunching snow under heavy footsteps and turned, just in time to see Arnbjörg emerge from behind a pair of trees. Her arms were loaded with firewood and he quickly moved to lighten her load, only managing to carry a few branches in his much smaller arms.

"You really don't have to help me." She laughed. There was no trace from the frail and broken woman from the night before, but he now saw a deep sadness in her eyes, which had never been there before. 

"But I can't just let you do all the work now, can I?" he joked. "Say, you wouldn’t know the shortest way to Utgard, would you?"

Arnbjörg stopped mid-step and looked at him, the smile had vanished from her face. "You want to leave?" she asked and he tried to ignore the way her voice wavered. 

"Well, I can't just keep relying on you for food and drink, right?" he laughed, hoping not to hurt her feelings. "And my family must be worried as well."

That appeared to soften the blow. Her expression softened and she sighed: "Fine. Bylur wanted to check up on you anyway. He usually works for three days before he gets a day to rest, so he should probably arrive tomorrow. You can accompany him back to Utgard."

 -----------

Arnbjörn was right. Bylur really did arrive during the next day. Loki and Arnbjörg had been in the middle of preparing lunch, when the door was thrown open, an entrance that he usually associated with Thor.  
Bylur was big. Very big. He was multiple heads taller than his mother and had the body of a soldier. The cave entrance was apparently designed for someone of Arnbjörg's size and it showed. He had to duck in order not to hit his head on the way in and once inside, he slowly straightened back up, his head mere inches away from scraping at the ceiling. If Loki had felt small in front of Arnbjörg, he certainly felt like an ant next to her son. 

"Bylur! Sweetie, how are you? Are you hungry? We were just about to make lunch. Why don’t you join us, you look way too skinny." Arnbjörg immediately flooded him with questions, hugs and lots of motherly concern. Bylur tried to evade the hug but failed miserably, he couldn’t move right in such a tiny space, and struggled not to make eye contact with Loki, his cheeks turning a darker blue than the rest of his body.

"Mother, please. Not in front of our guest."

He freed himself from her arms and held his hand out to Loki.

"Hello, small one. I'm Bylur. I found you on the battlefield once the fight had ended."  
"It truly is a pleasure to meet you, Bylur. My name is Loki. Thank you for saving me."

"Loki would like to accompany you to Utgard, Bylur." Arnbjörg said. "He has family in the city."

"Sure, I don't mind. But, I would like to eat first. I really am hungry."

They ate lunch together, Bylur and Arnbjörg talking about work and family – "Have you seen Bjarni lately?" – while Loki just listened to them, enjoying the food. This would be the last good meal for some time, until he changed back and could return to Asgard, or until he learned how to hunt and cook the creatures in this realm.

After lunch, Arnbjörg hugged both of them and gave Loki a small pouch, he could hear the sound of coins inside.

"I can't possibly take this."  
"I can give him some of my money, mother."

But she absolutely refused to take it back, even after they both insisted, so, in the end, he attached it to his waist. 

"Farewell, little one. May you live a happy life." She said and hugged him one last time, squeezing tightly. 

And then they were outside, waving Arnbjörg goodbye and on their way to Utgard.  
It all happened rather fast and Loki caught himself looking back at the mountain, in which he had stayed the last few days. He hadn’t known Arnbjörg for very long, but she reminded him of Frigga, the same way Bylur reminded him of Thor. Leaving her almost felt like getting left behind a second time.  
There hadn’t been any news of Asgard while he was with Arnbjörg, no declaration of war, no search parties, nothing. 

_See? They don't care._

"So, what were you doing on that battlefield anyway?" Bylur broke the silence between them and Loki was grateful for the distraction.

"I don't know. I don't remember."

Bylur's eyebrows rose up. "You don't?"

"No." he lied. "The last thing I remember is being in my parents' house when the Aesir appeared."

"Hm. I shall look into it then."

"You don't have to, really." He really didn't want Bylur to discover that Loki's family in Utgard didn’t exist.

"So, how far is it until we reach Utgard?" he asked instead.

"Not too far. It's a half-day's march, so we should arrive by sunset. Why? Is it urgent?"

"No, don't worry. I was just wondering."

Once again, there was silence between them. Bylur moved swiftly and by now they were far away from Arnbjörn's mountain. On the horizon, a small speck, he could see the shimmer of ice. Could it be Utgard? He had never seen Jötunheims capital, had only seen pictures in books and heard tales from the elders. 

The road before them would take multiple hours by foot and all he could think about at that thought, was how much easier it would be if he just shifted into a wolf. Shifting his shape was one of his oldest abilities. As long as he could remember, he was always able to take on the form of any animal that he chose. His mother often joked that, when he was a child, he would shift whenever he threw a tantrum, turning into a snake or wolf to bite his brother. 

So, again, he tried to access his seiðr, but something blocked his path. He prodded again and sure enough: his seiðr was still there, but it was locked away, the path that it usually used to travel through his body was gone. Loki felt despair settle in his heart. Not only that he had lost his family and home to this body, it also kept him away from his magic. Close enough that it was in reach, but too far to get a grip onto it.

"Loki? Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh yes, everything is fine. But please, tell me of your fight against the Aesir."

And just like that, Bylur forgot everything that he was about to ask. He really was like Thor, ask them about battles and they could talk for hours.

 -----------

Shortly after they arrived in Utgard, Bylur bid him farewell. He had to return to the barracks before nightfall and had to hurry. So, Loki was now alone in a foreign city in a foreign realm. It was strange to think of how this realm had felt like his home a few days ago. But Utgard was different than the mountains around Arnbjörgs home. You could practically feel the scars the war had left on it. The hatred against Aesir and the self-pity lay heavy in the air and seemed to weigh him down. It made him feel smaller than he already was and reminded him of how easily they could kill him with their massive bodies.  
He hadn’t even been there for an hour, when he decided that he had to leave. Everything seemed threatening from this angle and he could feel the eyes of the Jötnar on him, his size making him stand out from the crowd.

He left the city and fled in a random direction, not stopping until the air was light again. From there on, he simply followed his instincts, trusting that they could lead him somewhere safe. Maybe home.  
But instead, he found himself in front of a temple, the one from Arnbjörg's story. He hadn’t believed her then, but now he had to know and entered. Had Odin truly killed a child? A child that shared his name. And only months later, he was born and given the same name as the dead Jotunn prince. 

_Or maybe you are one and the same._

Again, he shook the thought from his mind. He traveled deeper into the temple, he was looking for something, but he didn’t know what.

Then, finally, he discovered something. A small altar, big enough for a baby, and he was sure that this was what he had been looking for all along. But before he could make another step, a voice behind him rang out.

"What are you doing in here!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just want to thank everyone, who left a review or kudos. I'm really happy that you like this story and am truly sorry that I haven't responded to any of your reviews. It's been a very busy week for me. But hopefully that has changed now and I finally have enough time to reply to you guys.
> 
> And again, thank you so much for reading this story.


	6. Chapter 6

The palace of Asgard was a place of joy. This was a well-known fact throughout the realm. Great feasts were thrown in its halls and those that worked and lived in the palace were generously paid. Their king was just and they were proud of their royal family.

Today though, the palace was quiet. Servants and royals alike were glad in black robes, a sign of grief. Candles burned at windowsills and above the city, the banner of the second prince flew in the wind. The entire realm mourned for Prince Loki.

Thor hated every bit of it. Everyone told him their condolences, said "Oh, what a great brother he must have been", but a week ago they couldn’t have cared less about the second prince of Asgard. And suddenly they all seemed to know him, how brave and honorable he had been.

"You didn’t even know him!" Thor wanted to scream at them. "How could you possibly know what this feels like!"

It had been three days since his mother asked him about the Jotunn runt. Immediately after he told them of its death, his father fell into the Odinsleep. His mother started to cry, telling him that she had to look after Odin during his sleep, but not before declaring his brother dead.

Thor had scarcely seen his mother since that day. She spent most of her time in her chambers, watching over Odin while weeping for her youngest. She refused to talk to him and burst into tears every time she saw him. He didn’t know what was going on, but he longed for his mother's embrace. He wished she would tell him that everything would be fine, that Loki was fine.  
With his father asleep and his mother's mental state, Thor was forced to rule over Asgard. A few days ago, this would have been a dream come true, but now he wanted nothing more than to lie down and never get up again. 

He was glad when the sun had set and he could finally retreat to his chambers. With a heavy sigh he got up from his father's throne- it certainly wasn’t his- and made his way to his rooms. 

The past nights he had visited his mother on the way there, but she couldn’t look him into the eyes and excused herself after a few minutes. Once the door closed behind her, he heard the sound of her sobs behind it.

Just when he almost reached the wing, which housed the chambers of the royal family, Volstagg and Sif appeared before him. They must have waited for him here at the only entrance to this part of the palace. 

"Thor." Sif starts, her voice soft. "How are you?"

"As fine as I can possibly be at this moment."

"We are simply worried about you, Thor. You have been avoiding us since Loki…passed away."

The name of his brother drove another stake through Thor's heart. It reminded him of the hole in his heart that would never be filled. How he would never see his brother again, or talk to him, see him in the library… Oh why couldn’t Sif just stop talking?

"Passed away?" he said. "That's an interesting way of saying that the Jötnar **murdered** him!"

And there was the anger again. The all-consuming fury that ate him up from the inside every time his brother's fate was mentioned. 

The Jötnar didn't deserve death. That would be way too kind. He wanted them all to feel agony, to beg for their lives. Maybe their screams would make the pain disappear.

"Please calm down." Volstagg interfered. "We know this must be difficult for you-"

"Difficult? Difficult! My brother was murdered! There is no body to bury! My father has fallen into the Odinsleep and my mother can't even talk to me, because the grief completely overwhelms her! This isn’t merely difficult!"

"Thor, please-"

"Why didn’t you keep an eye on him! You all forgot about him! Forgot about a prince of Asgard! And now he is dead! Dead and gone!"

His voice cracked and the anger suddenly dissipated, leaving only despair in its wake. The screams turned the sobs and he sunk to the floor, dragging Volstagg with him.

"I'm so sorry." He sobbed. "I didn’t mean to… I forgot him too. I didn’t even notice he was gone – I – I just assumed…" 

"It's okay, Thor." Volstagg patiently said.

"You are not at fault." Sif continued.

He shook his head. Yes, it was. He brought his brother to Jötunheim and he didn’t notice his absence. But the words refused to leave his mouth, so he just sobbed and cried until he ran out of tears.

They both accompanied him back to his chambers afterwards, before he assured them that he was fine. Immediately after he closed the door behind him, he strode into his study and to his work desk. Until recently it was sparingly used, most of the time it simply served as a place to set his weapons down. Now though, multiple geography and history books were scattered across its surface. Most of the books originated from Loki's collection because he didn’t want to appear suspicious by visiting the library. They would have certainly informed his mother about his strange behavior.  
For two days now, he had studied the carts of Yggdrasil and the aftermath of the Jotunn war. Or to be more specific, the hidden paths between the realms. He knew that Loki occasionally used them but Thor was particularly interested in the paths that connected Midgard and Jötunheim. While they were all supposed to be sealed, he knew his fellow Aesir well enough to know that they probably missed one. And he was right.

The paths from Jötunheim were all blocked, just as ordered. But those entrances that resided in Midgard were partly neglected. They were all sealed; all except one. They probably didn’t expect the Midgardians to wander into Jötunheim. The path was in a cold and inaccessible location, so it was probable that they were right in their assumption. No Midgardian would travel there on their own accord. Thor, on the other hand…

He had already packed, so he simply had to put his armor on, Mjölnir at his side. By now, it was already nighttime and the palace would be empty, save for the guards. And no one was allowed to visit a tavern due to the mourning of Loki. So it was the perfect time to make his escape.  
He considered to mount his steed to reach the observatory faster, but quickly dismissed the thought. If his mother was still awake, it would be much easier for her to spot him on horseback than by foot. 

He made his way down the bridge in a slow walk, his backpack heavy upon his shoulders. Anyone else would have spent those minutes contemplating their choices, but not Thor. All he could think about was the image of his brothers dead body in his mind and the thought of making the Jötnar suffer for what they had done.

Heimdall was awake when he arrived and Thor briefly wondered if he ever slept. 

"Good night, my king. I should probably inform you that your mother made it clear to me that you are not allowed to travel to Jötunheim."

"That means that there will be no need for a quarrel, Heimdall, since I merely wish to travel to Midgard. These coordinates to be exact." He said, pointing at a small piece of parchment, which contained a small amount of numbers. 

Heimdall looked at him, then at the parchment. Thor could practically _feel_ his mistrust.

"Well Heimdall?"

The gatekeeper sighed. "Fine, my king. As you wish." 

Thor couldn't keep the smirk of his face, as the Bifröst transported him away. 

He arrived on Midgard and couldn’t really see much of a difference from Jötunheim. It was just as cold, rocky and desolate. The pathway wasn’t far away and Thor had studied the maps often enough to find it with his eyes closed. It wasn’t anything special, just a small crevice in the mountain before him. He had to squeeze himself through and almost got stuck mid-way. As soon as he emerged, he knew he was in Jötunheim. It was still cold, but entirely different than Midgard. There was no way to explain the difference; he could simply feel the magic of the realm, weak as it was.

He spied a small mountain in the distance and grabbed Mjölnir tightly in his hand, spinning it a few times.

It was time to avenge his brother.


	7. Chapter 7

"What are you doing in here!"

Loki startled and broke into a run. It was pointless, really. It was an instinctive reaction and he had no idea where he was going. So, naturally, it was only a matter of seconds until he was tackled to the ground. He heard the shifting of metal, usually a sign of armour, and the crackle of ice. A sharp edge of cold settled at the back of his neck and the voice spoke again.

"I will ask this only once more. Who are you and what are you doing in here?"

"My name is Loki Sveinnson. I am from a small town, far away from Utgard. I was unaware that this temple was off-limits to the public. I apologize for my mistake."

His voice was muffled from the ground, but he didn’t dare to turn his head with the blade still so close.

"What is this town called, Sveinnson? It should be common knowledge throughout Jötunheim that only the royal family is permitted in Sísnævi."

"Again, I apologize. Ísafjörður is a very small village near the sea. We rarely receive news about the rest of Jötunheim."

He felt the Jötnar shift on top of him.

"Have you ever heard of a town called Ísafjörður?"

"No, but I think my sister's husband once mentioned it. It is in the northern part of Jötunheim." Answered a different voice. Presumably another guard.

The blade was removed from his neck and the Jötnar pulled him to his feet.

"Right now, it doesn't matter if you speak the truth. You still aren’t supposed to be here and will be jailed until your innocence is proven."

Granted, it wasn't what Loki had been hoping for. Ísafjörður was merely a shot in the dark and he had had no idea that it even existed. So, he had already exhausted his luck. He offered no resistance as they lead him away, back in the direction of Utgard, to a fortress outside the city. It wasn’t anywhere near the size of Asgard's palace, but its icy walls still towered over the guards. It reminded him of a big wolf that was trying to blend into his environment, but failed miserably.   
His cell was on the ground floor, which was probably where less important criminals were held. The walls were made of stone, with a layer of ice on top of it that was cold to the touch, even to the skin of Jötnar. There was a bed, but it could hardly be called one. It was merely a small pile of straw, covered with an old blanket. He had no way of seeing the other prisoners, but he could watch guards walking by, hurrying down the corridor. They didn't give him anything for dinner, but he didn't think he could eat anything anyway. The cell smelt like rotten eggs and piss.  
He tried to strike up a conversation with the guards, prisoners, anyone really. He was bored out of his mind and would do anything for an engrossing talk. But he was either ignored or yelled at, so he chose to leave it alone. Finally, he simply lay down on his "bed" and tried to sleep. The straw was uncomfortable and poked him in the ribs and he missed his home more than ever.

Had they given up the search for him?

_Was there even a search?_

Had they declared him dead? Had mother wept? What about Thor and his father?

Even though he could imagine Thor crying over him, he couldn't see Odin doing the same. He knew that his father loved, or at least Frigga claimed he did.

_He still has Thor, so he is still happy_

He turned and twisted on his bed, closed his eyes and imagined Asgard's palace. There it stood, tall and proud in the strongest realm of Yggdrasil. He could almost feel his own bed, warm and soft, made of the finest materials they could find. But then he returned to reality and could only feel the straw in his back and smell the stench of the cell. It took every ounce of willpower not to succumb to tears right then and there.  
How would his family look at him, if they could see him now. A Jötnar, stuck in a cell in Jötunheim. Father would refuse to look at him, his face full of disgust. His mother would weep at such a pitiful display and his brother… Thor wouldn't even recognize him. He had already attacked him once and would finish the job as soon as he saw Loki. He would slay his own brother before Loki could utter even a single word. 

Thor – Giant Slayer

\-----------

He awoke to the clatter of the tray that was pushed through the bars of his cell. During the night he had migrated onto the floor, which was harder than the straw, but it didn't poke him in the back, which he considered a good thing.   
The food was an unidentifiable gray substance that smelled like fish. They didn't give him a spoon, so he had to eat it with his hands. He barely managed to swallow the first bite; the smell of the cell and of the food had fused into an entirely indescribable stink. It tasted like nothing, but whoever had cooked it had clearly used too much salt.

Guards were talking animatedly in the hallway, reporting the last day's events to their superior.

"And he has been safely secured?"

"Affirmative, Sir. We put him in cell 564 on the ninth floor."

"Good. How many guards are with him?"

"Two, Sir, but we still have some to spare."

"Then double his guards. We can't risk him escaping again. You are dismissed."

A small, scrawny guard hurried past Loki's cell and down the corridor. A few seconds later a different Jötnar entered his line of sight. He was similarly built as Bylur with broad shoulders and just as tall. The furs he wore were of finer quality than those of the rest of the guards and Loki instinctively knew that this was someone of high standing. 

The Jötnar glanced into Loki's cell and stopped. He stared dumbfoundedly at him for multiple seconds and Loki was starting to get uncomfortable. He broke eye contact with the guard and shoveled some food into his mouth so that he didn't have to look up.

"Who is that?" he heard him ask.

"Loki Sveinnson, Sir. Björn and Jón found him in Sísnævi."

"I see."

"Sir?"

"Send for Eirik, will you?"

"Right away, Sir. But, might I ask why?"

"I will explain once Eirik has looked at him."

He heard the sound of fading footsteps and when he looked up again the guard had walked away. Relieved, he set the bowl of food down again. It was better not to attract too much attention to himself. He wasn't sure how long trespassers were imprisoned in Jötunheim, but Asgard usually released them after a couple of weeks, unless they had committed further crimes.

_But this isn't Asgard._

The rest of the morning was rather uneventful. Nothing happened and Loki almost wished for the prisoner in cell 564 to start another escape attempt. If he asked nicely, maybe he would even free Loki as well. He didn't know who this Eirik was, but he didn't look forward to meeting him.

Had they discovered that he was Aesir? Terror flooded his veins at the thought. Surely they would interrogate him and if they didn't receive the desired answers they would resort to torture. He had heard enough war stories to know what that involved. And what would happen once they noticed that their prisoner was a member of the royal family. They would hold him for ransom; demand the return of the casket. And once he was brought home, the Allfather would look barely look at him, ashamed of his son. 

_Or, maybe he wouldn't do anything. Refuse to return the casket and leave you in the hands of the Frost Giants._

And even though Loki knew that this would be a wise choice, because a king shouldn't act upon paternal feelings, this decision would hurt ten times more than the other. 

Around noon, the guard from before led another Jötnar to Loki's cell. He was old, very old, even if Loki didn't know how a Frost Giant could look old. He was relatively small, around Arnbjörg's height. He was hunched over though, making him even smaller. His left hand clenched tightly around a walking cane made of ice. 

"That is him, Eirik." The guard said with a motion in Loki's direction. Eirik blinked owlishly at Loki and grumpily replied:

"Well, it seems that my eyes aren't what they used to be, Hjarn. Let me have a closer look."

Hjarn motioned for two other guards, who unlocked the door of his cell, before entering it. One of them held a pair of handcuffs and Loki moved his hands to his back to show his cooperation. The cuffs closed against his wrists and they both left again, though they were probably standing guard around the corner, should he attempt to escape. 

Eirik entered his cell and Loki wanted to back away. The old man's eyes were trained on him, he was almost sure that the Jötnar didn't even blink. His left hand let go of the cane and held Loki's face in both of his hands. His fingers grazed over the lines on his face and Eirik's eyes grew wide. He turned back to Hjarn.

"You were right." He whispered. "This is Laufey's son."


	8. Chapter 8

_Laufey's son!_

Loki wrenched his head away from the old man's hand. How dare he! He was a proud Odinson!

"I am not and will never be Laufey's son, do you hear me!" he snarled. 

Eirik backed away, obviously not expecting such a reaction. Hjarn was now inside the cell as well, attempting to pull the elder outside. The other either didn't notice or just did not care, for he remained where he was.

"But you are." He continued. "See, this band of runes on your forehead is shared with your ancestors. And you have the same as the rest of the royal family. You are the right size and if I estimate your age correctly, it fits as well."

He smiled then and looked unbelievably proud of himself.

"Shouldn't you be happy? You could live in the palace!"

"Eirik" Hjarn whispered, but still loud enough to be heard. "He said his name was Loki."

"Truly?" The old man blinked. "So they knew who he was. Do you think he was stolen?"

 _Stolen?_ He was **not stolen!**

"What was your name again?" The guardsman turned to Loki. "Sveinnson?"

The rage that had gradually been building up finally erupted and filled his veins with fire, regardless of the ice and cold surrounding him.

"No, my name is _not_ Sveinnson." He growled. "My name is Loki Odinson, son of Odin and Frigga and Prince of Asgard!"

They could go ahead and torture him for information, anything was better than being declared the son of that monster. 

"Calm down, young one. You seem confused. Hjarn, did your men check for any head injuries?"

The old Jötnar moved closer again and ran his hands along Loki's scalp while searching for any hints of injuries. Loki pulled away once more. 

"I am telling the truth! Asgard's second prince went missing during a trip to Jötunheim! I am that prince!"

Ice began to cover Hjarn's arm as the guard went into a fighting stance, ready to throw himself between Loki and Eirik. But Loki's attention was now fully trained onto the guard. His hands were bound, but if he could get behind him he could take him out. Eirik was far too old to fight and he was sure that Hjarn carried the keys to his handcuffs. Once he was free he could fight his way out of here. 

"Both of you calm down, or I will be forced to-"

But Loki ignored the words of the old man, getting ready to dodge Hjarn's attack and opened his mouth to throw an insult at him to finally force him to attack. Instead, a cold liquid touched his tongue. Eirik kept a firm grip on him from behind and forced the contents of a small vial into Loki's mouth. When he realized that Loki wouldn't swallow it willingly, the Jötnar covered his mouth and nose with his hand.  
Loki began to struggle, throwing his body in every direction, but Eirik, despite his old age, was still strong enough to restrain his movements.

_Air! I need air!_

He didn't even realize that he had swallowed the liquid until Eirik moved his hand away and he greedily sucked in air. The cell around him started to spin and so he sat down, looking up at Eirik.

"What did you give me?"

He couldn't control his tongue properly anymore. The words slurred together and were almost incomprehensible. The blue shape, which he assumed to be Eirik, moved towards him, but before he could say anything everything went dark.

\-----------

When he awoke again, Loki felt the softness of a bed underneath him, making it clear that he wasn't in his prison cell anymore. Eirik must have given him some sort of anesthetic, which would explain the dreamless and sudden sleep. Sitting up, he surveyed the room around him. It certainly wasn't anything like the simple house of Arnbjörg. The bed was obviously made for a very tall giant, it was big enough to fit two horses onto it maybe even three. Furs covered most of the walls and floor, almost concealing the solid stone underneath. In the corner of the room stood a small table next to a couch. 

This was a room meant for someone of high standing. Asgard's palace had similar rooms, even though they were usually more furnished. The ambassadors from foreign realms were occasionally housed in those. So, this was probably the palace of Utgard.

It made sense, in a way. Eirik had thought he was part of the royal family, so of course he would bring him here. Even if he was wrong. Loki wasn't Laufey's son. Even now, with his blue skin, he couldn't find any resemblance. The old Jötnar thought that it would fill Loki with joy, being called Laufey's offspring, but he couldn't be more wrong. The thought itself filled Loki with disgust and anger. When he was younger Laufey and other Jötnar often starred in his nightmares, being called his son was worse than any insult.

There were many rumors in Asgard that he wasn't Odin's son. He was born too soon after the war and Odin was gone for a lot longer than just nine months. And even though Odin did his best to quell these rumors, there were still a few left, who claimed that Frigga had had a lover during the war. He had never paid any attention to them, because frankly it was just ridiculous. His mother would never betray her husband. 

This was different though. Because a small voice in the back of his head kept telling him that Eirik was right. 

_It all makes sense. Why you look nothing like your parents or your brother. Why Thor is Odin's favourite child._

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of these thoughts, but they wouldn't leave.

_Laufey's firstborn. The one that died in the war. You are the same age and even share the same name._

And finally

_Their touch couldn't hurt you. You are one of them._

He pulled his hair and willed the thoughts to go away. Banished them to the back of his head, where he couldn't hear them. They made too much sense and explained too many oddities.

The sound of the door opening distracted him from them and he was grateful for it.

In the threshold stood an intimidating figure, which held itself in a proud stance. Loki had seen many kings and princes in his life and could recognize them when he spotted them. He had also grown up with Thor and could identify a crown prince. So this was Helblindi.

There was no doubt that this was Laufey's son. He looked just like him, even if he a bit smaller than his father. The crown prince lifted his chin and greeted him with:

"Oh, so you're finally awake."

His tone was arrogant and it was clear that he thought himself above him. Another trait that most crown princes seemed to share.

"I deeply regret that the anesthetic knocked me out longer than your patience would allow. I hope you can forgive me."

Helblindi scowled. "Our healer claims that you are part of my family."

"Personally, I can't see any family resemblance."

"I shall let my father decide. You wouldn't be the first one to pretend to be my brother."

"See, I don't really _want_ to be part of your family."

"You wouldn't be my first choice either."

They eyed each other like this for a few seconds. Helblindi next to the door and Loki still in bed. The crown prince was the first one to speak again.

"I shall have some clothes delivered to this room. Your king will want to talk to you later, try to make yourself presentable."

With these words he turned around and left the room, slamming the door shut after him. And Loki was once again left alone with his thoughts.

\-----------

The maid came on long after that, carrying a bundle of furs and cloth in her arms. She addressed him as 'Your Majesty' and bowed several times before leaving him alone again. The garb that she brought him was much simpler than the vest Arnbjörg had supplied him. It was just a cape lined with fur and some trousers. Jotunn royalty apparently dressed much different than the aesir. But, he had to admit that it looked pretty good on him. The white fur of the cape was in contrast to his blue skin and stood out. The cape itself was of a lighter blue and the cloth was soft and comfortable. 

Once dressed, he sat down on the couch and waited for the Jotunn king. The maid had also brought a plate of various foods, which he happily helped himself to. He didn't have to wait too long though before someone knocked on his door.

He got to his feet, not wanting to greet a king while sitting and called out: "Come in."

Laufey was alone. He had brought no guards with him and seemed full of confidence. Which wasn't too hard to achieve when you could cross an entire room with just a few steps. 

The king looked at Loki for a few seconds before saying: "You are Odin's boy."

_Finally! Someone recognizes me!_

"You know who I am? Even when I look like _this_?"

If Laufey detected any disgust at the last word, he didn't show it.

"It isn't too hard to guess who you are." He shrugged. "The only difference is the color, really."

"Then you also know that I am not your son, right?" Maybe now he could actually go home. Laufey acted pretty civil when they last met and didn't seem to want war with Asgard.

_But that was before Thor attempted to kill his entire race._

"Of that…I am not too sure." _What?_

"What?"

"Your ancestry lines claim you to be my long deceased son. You also have an almost unnerving resemblance to my wife."

"You cannot be serious. I am an Odinson!"

"I don't believe that one either." Laufey sat down on the floor, so that he and Loki were now at eye level. "Would it really be so horrible to be my son?"

"Excuse me, if I don't particularly want to be a monster!"

"How long have you been on Jötunheim, Loki Odinson?"

"A few days, why?"

"Then you have surely met other Jötnar. Tell me, did they seem like monsters to you?"

He thought of Arnbjörg's gentle smile and how she had interacted with her son. The memory didn't line up with the picture of the cruel and dangerous Jötnar that Asgard had taught him.

"…No."

"Then how about an offer? You stay here with us for a while; in the meantime we try to figure out why you look like one of us, since you obviously can't change back on your own. I will also inform your parents of their prince's whereabouts and tell them why you can't come back just yet."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"Better relations with Asgard. We help you and therefore prove that we can be trusted and also teach you some things about our culture. Once you are back in Asgard you can convince the people that we are more than simple-minded beasts."

"I accept. Under one condition: You do not tell my parents about my current form."

"Why?"

Loki honestly couldn't tell him. He didn't even know why he didn't want them to know. It just seemed like a bad idea to tell them. 

"Just don't tell them. Name a different reason why I'm staying here. To improve political relations, maybe?"

"Fine. We have a deal"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this sure took a long time to write. Sorry about that, hope it was worth the wait. School is starting very soon and I don't know if I can write another chapter until then. This will be very busy year for me, so it might take a while until I have the time to write more. I hope you understand that. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading this story ^^


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Guess what I'm not dead!

Helblindi stopped his pacing once the door to his "brother's" room opened. Pfah, like that could actually be his brother. Sure, he had the correct ancestry lines but surely there were ways to fake them. He didn't know any mage with this kind of power but it couldn't be impossible. He had seen them do far more difficult magic.  
He didn't even look anything like Helblindi himself. He could see a few similarities between the stranger and his mother but that could be a coincidence.

Helblindi's father and king stepped out of the room and he could see how his father's eyes hardened once the stranger couldn't see them anymore.  
Slowly, he stepped out from behind the column where he had waited and joined his father at his right side, the side reserved for the heir of the throne. If this stranger continued with this charade could he take this away from Helblindi? Would he be forever banished to the left side which was usually occupied by Býleistr?

Cautiously, he turned to look at his father. These interrogations usually left him in a foul mood and it was advised not to ask any stupid questions. But today, Laufey seemed to be in a good mood. His lips were curved in a small smile but it didn't reach his eyes. They stayed as cold and hard as the ice that surrounded them. 

He opened his mouth to ask how it went but his father was the first to speak.

"He took him."

"Who took whom, father?" He replied, confused. What was he talking about?

"Odin. He took Loki and raised him as his own."

"Wha-Father you make no sense!" 

Loki was dead! That stranger in there couldn't be his brother! When Helblindi had been a boy he had often imagined what it would be like if his older brother was still alive. He imagined how he would look like, big and strong. His parents told him that Loki had been born unnaturally small, due to being born too early, but he couldn't imagine a Jötnar as anything but big. After all, weren't they called giants? His parents never gave up hope that someone had found Loki and simply didn't recognize him. In hindsight, this reasing didn't make any sense. Who wouldn't recognize the marking!

Still, their daydream was contagious and he had jumped with joy when someone had declared to have found the lost prince. He had already seen himself with his new brother, his _older_ brother, and thought of all the things they would do together. His parents had immediately invited the Jötnar in question into the palace, eager to be reunited with their son.

But once they had arrived, it was soon revealed to have been a big lie. The child wasn't a runt, it was simply too young. Its father (?) had tried to give them the markings of the Royal Family by painting over the already existing ones but had failed spectacularly. The father had been thrown in prison, the child given to a foster home, and when his parents had returned to him that night he hadn't understood.

They had promised him that he would meet his brother that night, but instead they told him how there had been a mistake and it hadn't been his brother after all. He had been angry at them, for lying to him, but he was also devastated as his fantasies and dreams turned to dust. His parents had apologized again and again, had sworn that it wouldn't happen again, that they would find him next time. 

But it did happen again.

And again.

And again.

And after some time he had simply stopped believing that his brother was still alive. But no matter how many times they were fooled, his parents never gave up. And as the years went by he began to resent them for it. Loki was dead! Why couldn't they simply accept the truth? Weren't he and Býleistr enough! What more did they need?

Now, the name of his older brother only left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"I am very aware of the fact that it doesn't make sense, Helblindi!" His father roared back at him, snapping him out of his thoughts. "But Odin still took him! The markings are real, Helblindi. And I recognize his face: this is Prince Loki, who was here only mere days ago together with his brother, Prince Thor."

"If that truly is Odin's son then you cannot simply rely on the markings! Both Loki and Odin would be powerful enough to cast such an illusion!"

"Powerful enough to fool even me?"

Laufey had him backed into a corner. There was no way that he would criticize his father magical abilities, a serious offense in Jötunheim. Helblindi's family was proud of their talent in the arts of seiðr. 

"No, father." He admitted quietly, lowering his head. When his father stayed silent for quite a while he looked up again, hoping he was forgiven.

"What will you do now, father?"

"I had to promise your brother that I would contact Odin and tell him of his whereabouts."

He had to strain himself not to cringe at the word "brother". 

"Are you going to?"

"Of course not!" Laufey scoffed. "For many years Farbauti and I had thought our son was dead. It won't do Odin any harm if we give him a taste of his own medicine."

With that, his father made a motion with his hand, a clear dismissal. Helblindi bowed his head and headed off into another direction to get further away from his parents' chambers. Once his mother learned who had raised her "son" she would destroy anything and anyone in her fit of rage. It was no secret that she despised the Aesir above all else, their king most of all. 

He had only just arrived at the end of the hallway, when his father's voice called him back.

"Helblindi." 

"Yes, father?"

"Please do not refer to your brother as such in front of him. He refuses to see the truth laid out before him."

"I don't understand."

"He still believes himself Aesir. I told him he was. He may not see us as mindless beasts anymore, but he won't react well to being one of us. Let him learn a bit more about us before we tell him."

Wordlessly, Helblindi nodded and turned, walking away again.

To him, this still seemed very far-fetched. Not only was his long-dead brother alive, he had also been raised by the Aesir, their king no less. And no matter how much trust Laufey had in his magical abilities, a deception by the Aesir king was hard to detect, especially when both his wife and son were respectable sorcerers themselves. This sounded like a grand plan to march into Jötunheim. 

With a huff he entered a familiar hallway and took a few turns until he stood in front of the great door that led to his chambers, the most luxurious rooms in the palace, second only to those of his parents. With the whisper of a spell, the door opened and Helblindi wasted no time in getting to his writing desk. With a wave of his arm, he shoved all the unimportant papers aside and pulled out a parchment, addressing the letter to his brother who was currently stationed in Glaumbaer. If his parents didn't listen to him on his own, maybe they would listen to both of them.


	10. Chapter 10

Oh Ymir, why did she decide to take this job?

Agða the maid regretted every life decision she had ever made. Her parents had told her to choose a different career but did she listen? No, of course not.

In the five months since she was employed, nothing bad had happened. There was no drama, no great war, not even a rotten salmon. And now this.

As soon as they received the message about the lost prince, all the experienced maids proclaimed that they had to leave because of important family issues. Now, only the newest ones were still in the palace, her included.

The older ones had always warned them of the queen's ferocious temper and just before leaving they had wished all of them good luck. 

The maid next to her tightly pinched the skirt of her dress in her hands and another one down the line looked like was going to cry. They were all lined up in front of the queen's chambers, ready to obey her every command.

Finally, King Laufey appeared at the end of the hallway and thus their queen's anger wouldn't be focused on them anymore. Though, Agða was starting to doubt that she was already angry. The chambers were dead quiet which they certainly wouldn't be if she was, if the older servants were to be believed. Maybe Queen Fárbauti was the only one who had yet to know.

The king himself looked quite pale. Agða swore that she could see the fear in his eyes.

Still, King Laufey addressed them with a calm voice.

"You are all to remain here. I will call for you, should the Queen require any assistance."

They nodded, even though they all knew that he would be the one to require help. 

The king turned back to the door, rearranged his clothing and took a deep breath. And then he opened the door and slipped inside.

They all held their breath, waiting for the explosion.

Nothing happened.

Maybe their king would be fine after all. She released a breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding and relaxed. The others did the same. One of them thanked her ancestors for their blessing.

And then the screaming started. 

" **He was raised by whom!** "

Oh dear. This was it. This was how she would die. 

As one, they all backed as far away from the door as possible, pressing their backs into the wall behind them.

There was a loud crash from inside. Someone had thrown a piece of furniture. A chair? No, too small. The bed, maybe?

Two voices were now both screaming. Queen Fárbauti, still in rage, and King Laufey who was trying to calm his wife down. 

There was another crash and one of the maids ran away in terror. She would probably later be fired. But Agða _needed_ this job. And anyone who couldn't handle Queen Fárbauti at her worst wasn't fit to work at the palace. So, she sent a silent prayer to Ymir in the hopes that this would soon end and continued to wait.

The noises stopped.

The silence remained and the maids began to fidget. Was everything alright in there? Was anyone injured? Maybe they should go inside and check.

But they weren't summoned to they remained where they were. Agða almost missed the screams. At least back then she knew that they were both still alive. 

After what felt like years, the doors finally opened and both Queen and King stepped outside. The king was a little worse for the wear with some scratches and bruises but Queen Fárbauti looked impeccable as always. There was not a single crease in her long skirt and her braid was still intact, not one hair was out of place. The Queen smiled gently at them as she walked by.

Once they were no longer in sight the maids finally broke formation and the oldest assigned each of them their work. There was lots of cleaning to be done, furniture that had to be replaced, all on top of their usual cleaning duties. There was no time to lose.

Sighing, Agða picked up a broom and followed the others into the chambers.

Why did she have to pick this job?


	11. Chapter 11

The wind was howling outside and Arnbjörg added more wood to the fire, trying not to let the flames die. The sky had been clear for most of the day when the storm clouds had suddenly appeared, blocking the sunlight and its warmth. 

Sudden weather changes were rare in Jötunheim and she never knew how to spend the time during them. She had planned to spend some time in the nearby forest gathering herbs but she absolutely wouldn't be doing so in this storm. Jötnar might not be as sensitive to the cold as other beings but they could still feel pain and she definitely didn't want to be hit by any branches. 

So, not knowing what to do with her spare time she grabbed a random book out of her shelf. It was one of the books about fairy tales that she had used to read to her children before bed time.

Lost in thought, she skimmed through the pages. Most of the tales were accompanied with little drawings, some of which were drawn by her sons themselves. They had taken parts of the charcoal that she used to light the fire and had started scribbling with it. Looking at the drawings, she could clearly see which was drawn by whom. Bjarni's drawings were shakier and most of them consisted of stick figures with massive heads. Bylur, the older one of the two, had already mastered the art of drawing something that actually looked like a Jötnar. Even if it bore little resemblance to the elegant Ice Maiden.

Chuckling, she sat on the bed and mused over times long past. How the boys' laughter seemed to make everything brighter and how her home was never completely quiet. There were always whispers, giggles, laughter and the sound of little feet running through the snow. The house was empty now. There was only her and the fire. Bylur always made sure to visit, but he was swiftly moving up in the ranks and she knew that the visits would inevitably dwindle.

For just a second she imagined what it would be like if Afli was still alive. The pain had lessened with the years but there was always a slight sting at the thought of him, comparable to scratching at a still healing wound. 

He would be saddened at the loss of the war and his pride would be damaged upon returning from the battlefield but little Bylur would be able to make him smile again. He would be overjoyed at the thought of another child and they would argue about getting a different home, that this one was far too small for four Jötnar. She could see him now, with Bjarni upon his shoulders and with Bylur at his side he would go hunting and teach them everything they had to know. At night, with the children fast asleep, they would talk to each other and tell the other about their day. And now, when the children were all grown up, he would sit by her side and tell her how much he loved her even now. Just like he did all those years ago on Mountain Jökull.

A sob tore through her and she opened her eyes again. She had to stop thinking such things. Every time she thought the wound had healed… With her palm she wiped a couple of stray tears away. 

Maybe it would be better if she got to bed early today. 

The book was placed back on top of the shelf and Arnbjörg returned to the bed, pulling the furs over her body and closed her eyes.

She slept dreamlessly and woke up not two hours later. The storm outside had grown even worse; the wind was pounding against the door. The fire had died down and was barely clinging to life inside the fireplace. 

With a stretch and a yawn she got up to put another log in the fire and whisper some encouraging words to it. She was halfway across the room when she stopped.

She was sure that she had just heard a voice.

Arnbjörg stayed still and silent and waited.

There it was again.

Apparently the knocking on the door wasn't only the wind. 

"Arnbjörg!" She could hear the voice clearly now. "Please let me in! Please, please, please!"

She unlocked the door and threw it open and immediately a small Jötnar flew into her arms. Upon closer inspection she recognized Dóri, the child of her neighbours Dáinn and Bitra. But their house was half an hour away! Did the small child make the journey all by himself? In this weather?

She closed the door and knelt down, so that she was on eye level with Dóri. He was shivering uncontrollably and wouldn't let go of her furs.

"Dóri.", started. "Please, tell me what's wrong. Where are your parents?"

That was when he started to cry. He clung to her and talked rapidly, but between the sobs she couldn't make out anything.

"Everything's okay." she said, trying to calm him down. "You are save here."

He shook his head.

"You have to lock the door!" he cried. "The monster is going to come and kill us all!"

"Child, I fear the storm has spooked you. Did your parents leave you home alone tonight? You can stay here if you're scared."

"No, no, no! The monster took them! They told me to run! Please, lock the door!"

This wasn't simply a child frightened of a storm. This was serious. 

She ushered Dóri into the back of the house and locked the door. Then, she took the bookshelf, the chair and table and used them to barricade it. The fire was extinguished. 

She had practiced this routine many times during the last war but had never had to actually use it. 

Finally, she joined Dóri in his little corner. He was crying silent tears and kept calling for his parents. The only thing she could do was rub his back and try to calm him down. She didn't know how long they sat like that in the dark.

There was a thud from outside and Dóri went still. She could hear thunder.

Even through the storm was raging overhead she could hear the footsteps of someone outside. Nobody moved.

The footsteps continued and stopped outside the door. It rattled as the something on the outside tried to open it. Another rattle then silence.

It was the loudest thunder she had ever heard. It was as if lightening itself had struck the door and it splintered in little pieces; the barricade was destroyed as well.

It was dark outside and she couldn't make out anything but she heard how someone stepped inside. The air hummed with electricity. 

She could make out a faint glow of light. It looked like a miniature lightning bolt and seemed to curl around something.

The monster had yet to make any further move. If they were lucky, it wouldn't see them and just walk right past them. 

It moved towards the fireplace and Arnbjörg knew that it had seen the remaining embers of the fire. It moved its light source above its head and with another deafening roll of thunder the room was illuminated.

In these precious seconds of light, Arnbjörg was finally able to make out their attacker. It was an Aesir. Bolts of lightning originated from his war hammer.

The Aesir's eyes landed on her and with a roar of fury he attacked. 

She jumped to the side, pulling Dóri with her. While the Aesir was still regaining his bearings after colliding with the wall, she pushed the child into another corner and covered him with some of the scattered furs.

Arnbjörg turned back towards her attacker and was immediately tackled to the ground.

Again, the hammer was raised high into the air; lightning bolts flashing across its surface.

The hammer came down.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it really happening? Is this an illusion? Has Signamino finally updated her story?
> 
> Yep, I am officially back ^^ It has been a while hasn't it? My finals are finally over and because of this I'll hopefully be able to update more often.

Loki let himself fall back onto the bed as soon as the door had closed behind the jotun king. What just happened? Did he seriously just make a deal with Laufey, his father's worst enemy? He probably wouldn't even keep his promise. He was a Frost Giant. They were all liars.

_Aren't you one as well?_

Of course not! Laufey just said that he wasn't one of them.

_Didn't you just say that they were all liars?_

That's different.

_It would only make sense.  
The god of lies is part of a species that is full of liars _

Why won't you leave me alone?

_I'm a part of you. I can't just leave._

With a huff, Loki turned onto his side. How much time had passed since Eirik had given him the sleeping potion? Rays of sunlight peeked from behind a curtain on the wall. He got to his feet again and crossed the room to pull the curtains back.

But…there was no window. He couldn't even see outside. Instead of the window he had expected, there was nothing more behind the curtain than a glowing stone about the size of a fist. He had to close his eyes, for it felt like he was looking directly into the sun. Even though he hadn't been able to use his seiðr since transforming into a Jötnar, he could feel magic radiating from it. 

What was this thing? Hesitantly he touched the stone with a finger and immediately drew back. He expected it to be cold but it felt like touching a flame. In all his years of studying and practicing seiðr, he had never come across something like this. Was the stone itself magical or was it bespelled? Was magic truly this common in Jötunheim? He would never have seen something similar in Asgard.

He continued to admire it, tracing the small cracks on its surface and watching the light emit from them. It appeared as though it should also mimic the day and night cycle for its light seemed to be dimming. 

He almost didn't hear the knocking on the door and, still slightly distracted, called: "Enter."

"Sir, I was told to ask you if- what are you doing?" A servant had entered the room and perplexedly watched Loki examine the glowing stone.

"Do you know what this is?" Loki asked with a mention to the stone.

"Yes, we call it lítill sól. It is used to illuminate rooms and helps our plants to grow during the polar night."

"Polar night?"

"It means the sun sets and doesn't rise for a couple of weeks. Before the invention of the lítill sól we would sometimes run out of food."

"So how does it work?"

"I am not sure. I'm not an expert when it comes to seiðr and only know the basics. As far as I know it is a special kind of stone, which reflects most light. Our mages bespell them and leave them out in the sun for a few days. Afterwards they are capable of reflecting the saved light when activated and light our rooms. We usually cover them since they are too bright otherwise. They usually have to be replaced after a couple of weeks."

"I see." Loki said and once again covered the stone with the curtain. The servant relaxed and Loki noticed only now that his own eyes had started to sting. 

"So what did you want to tell me?"

"Ah, excuse me I had almost forgotten. The king and queen ask if you would like to join them for dinner."

Now, while Loki had definitely warmed up to the Frost Giants he still didn't want to dine with their leader. No matter what Laufey could offer him.

"Tell them I am grateful for the invitation, but I will have to decline."

"As you wish."

The servant left. He came back a while later along with a plate of food. It didn't seem like the type of food royals usually ate. Just some kind of fish with a handful of vegetables.

The light behind the curtain began to dim and Loki realized that is was probably sunset by now.  
He debated leaving his room to explore the castle but decided against it. He didn't want to run into Laufey or his son again.

With nothing else left to do, he simply laid back down until he fell asleep.

 

\-----------

 

For a brief moment Loki thought he was back in Asgard in his rooms and Thor was waking him up for another hunting trip with the Warriors Three. Only Thor would dare waking him up like this, pounding against the doors of his sleeping quarters and yelling for him to get up.  
But when he opened his eyes it was Jötunheim once again, with its high ceilings and foreign rooms. And the voice behind the door was certainly not Thor, even though its owner was apparently also trying to break down the door, if the forceful knocks were any indication.

"Get up! I need to talk to you!" a voice cried. It neither belonged to Laufey nor Helblindi and he knew that no servant would dare talk to a Royal's guest like this.

He didn't change his clothes before going to bed so he simply had to get up and walk to the door, still half-asleep. Upon opening the door he was greeted (of course) with a Jötnar twice as tall as himself. 

"Uh..hello?" he greeted and watched as the Jötnar before him took in his rumpled and wrinkled attire.

"What did you do with those clothes?" he asked instead of introducing himself. "They look like you've slept in them."

"Uh, that's because I did."

"Well you certainly can't go out looking like this." 

The Jötnar turned to one of the servants and told him to "bring this poor man some proper clothing for outside".

Once it became apparent that this strange Jötnar wouldn't offer any explanation, Loki asked: "Outside? Why do I need clothing for outside?"

With a giant grin on his face the Jötnar turned to him and answered: "Because we are going on a trip, of course. If you're in Jötunheim you need to have a look around! Especially if you're from Asgard! Do you even have snow over there?"

What was going on? Who was this? And why did he want to show Loki around? We hadn't even been awake for five minutes and this was far too much for his brain to process. 

"What- of course we have snow in Asgard! We don't live in Muspellsheim! But you still haven't explained anything! Why should I listen to you? Who are you?"

By now the servant had returned with fresh clothes and the Frost Giant threw them at Loki with a cry of: "Get dressed, I'll be back in five minutes!"

The door closed and he was alone again. Dazed and confused he stared at the furs in his hands. They looked similar to the ones he had worn before but the material was rougher and seemed more durable.  
He considered not getting dressed but he feared the Jötnar would simply pick him up and carry him outside in his underpants.  
As soon as he was fully dressed the door swung open once again. It was the same Jötnar as before. He only looked at him for a few seconds before saying: "You look great, let's go!"  
But it sounded more like 'Youlookgreatletsgo', the pause between the words practically nonexistent. 

He was dragged through the palace, feeling like a sack of flour. While going down a particularly dark hallway he tried once again. "You still haven't told me your name."

The Jötnar stopped in his tracks and turned around, his eyes wide in surprise.

"I haven't? I could have sworn I had."

"Well…you could always tell me now."

"I'm Býleistr. You may have heard of me."

Wait…this was the second prince of Jötunheim? He seemed…eccentric.

"You're the second prince of Jötunheim?"  
"Yup! Well I guess I'm the third prince now. Right, brother?"

Oh not this again.

"Listen, I don't know who told you this but I'm not a Jötnar. I'm not one of you. I don't belong here. I'm an Odinson."

The prince just looked at him, suddenly serious.

"You know what?" he asked. "I don't believe any of that. And I don't think you do either. I think you're just trying to tell yourself that because you don't want to admit to yourself that you are 'one of us'. Because you think we are monsters."

"Even if I do think that…how are you going to change that?"

"Well that's easy." Býleistr replied. The smile was back now. "I show our realm to you and you'll see that we aren't as bad as you think we are."

He opened the door in front of them and Loki was met with the smell of fresh air. They had somehow ended up in the stables, if the boxes in front of them were any indication. But the air lacked the usually distinctive smell of horses. Were there even any horses big enough for the Jötnar to ride?

"Where are the horses?" he asked Býleistr.

"Horses?" He laughed. "Those are for Aesir. We have something even better!"

They rounded a corner and Loki had to suppress a scream of terror. Before him were the biggest beasts he had ever seen. Inside the boxes were white bears, even taller than Býleistr. They could squash Loki with their paws. They wouldn't even notice!

"What the Hel are those!"

"These are our Ísbjörnar. They carry our carriages but we also ride on them. That big one over there is Félagi, he belongs to my brother. Don't step to close he likes to bite."

"Bite? If that thing bit me I'd be gone! It wouldn't even have to chew!"

"Calm down, nothing is going to happen to you. Glókollur there is my father's. He's very well tempered. That's my mother's, Álfkona. And that one over there is mine! Bjalla!"

One of the bears perked up and watched them with interest. Loki wasn’t sure if it was looking happy or just hungry.

"I am not getting on that thing."

"She isn't a thing! How could you say that? She's a very good girl! Aren't you, Bjalla?"

Býleistr started hugging and petting the bear. Then he stepped away again and looked around the stable. 

"But you have a point. Bjalla is already carrying me so we will have to find another one for you."

"Or I could just stay here and not climb on any giant bears."

"Nonsense! You can ride on Hosi! He's still very young so he isn't as tall as the others."

"He is 'very young'? That sounds an awful lot like 'untamed'."

"Don't be ridiculous! He is tamed! Well…kind of."

This couldn't end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was the chapter. I really hope it was worth the long wait. Hopefully that won't happen again.   
> I have to thank everone that still wrote comments on this story even though it hadn't been updated in so long. You really motivated me to keep writing. 
> 
> I also have a book recommendation for anyone that's interested in viking stories or stories surrounding the nordic gods (Loki, Thor etc.). As far as I know the book is only available in German though but maybe there are some Germans out there reading this. The book is called Viking Warriors by Richard Dübell.  
> Loki is in it and is actually a very important character. (so that's a big plus)
> 
> So yeah, I'm very sorry for the long wait and I hope you will keep reading ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, thanks so much for reading this story. English isn't my first language, so please tell me if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes.  
> Thanks :)


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